


Until Then

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drabble, Ficlet, Romance, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-23
Updated: 2007-11-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 11:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Hermione thinks about Ron the night of his return.





	Until Then

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Hermione thinks about the Ron on the night of his return.  


* * *

Until Then 

     Hermione laid awake, too deep in thought to return to sleep.  He’s back!  That one thought screamed through her head.  When she had seen him standing in the opening of the tent it had been like a repeat of the dream she’d had ever since he left.  Although in the dream, she hadn’t tried to beat the living hell out of him… no, in the dream she had always thrown herself into his waiting arms as he snogged the very breathe out of her.  Of course, there were also the dreams where she had felt his hands and lips roam over her entire body.  She was sure that her face had been as red as a beetroot those following mornings when Harry had asked her how, she had slept.

 

But the reality was that she had hit him with all she had in her.  Her fists actually still ached from the punches to his ribs.  She had to make him understand how much he hurt her. What did he expect after leaving her behind, when she begged him not to go?  Did Ron think that she would just forgive and forget?  How could he understand the nights she had cried over him, wondering if he was hurt, or worse dead? Or whether the Death Eaters had turned him into a bone and buried him somewhere like Barty Couch? Or if maybe they would never be able to find a trace of his body, like Mad-Eye.  There were also the nights that she could she could see him back in the Common Room with his arms around Lavender Brown.  Lavender who had her hand on her Ron’s body, her mouth on his, and this was not acceptable. Hermione had once or twice nicked the Map just to see if their dots were somewhere together, and she would always sigh with relief at seeing Lavender’s dot very much alone.

 

Hermione heard the opening of the tent flap and felt a rush of freezing cold air hit her back.  Curiosity got the better of her as she quietly turned her head to glance around the tent.  Harry was laying on the bunk across from her smiling at the ceiling.  Obviously, he was pleased with tonight’s turn of events.  She couldn’t help but grin at Harry’s glee, and she understood why Harry was so elated with Ron’s return. Things had been all wrong when Ron was gone.  His absence had been the continual dark cloud that seemed to follow them everywhere.  She couldn’t even remember the last time they had laughed. As much as she and Harry loved each other, Hermione knew the feeling would never venture beyond platonic.  They had just spent weeks alone, sleeping in the same tent.  Yet, she had never felt even the slightest temptation to take that friendship to the next level, and she knew that Harry felt the same

 

It was impossible to think that Ron had been so close by since Christmas.  They had even been able to see his distant movements. Now Ron had returned and was sitting just outside the tent flap, his head resting in his hands.  He was back to do what he always did, standing guard over them.

 

Part of her mind was screaming for her to get up and run to him, wrapping her arms around him and never letting go.   But, this time she was going to be careful with her heart.  She knew how she felt, had known since she was fourteen.  No other boy had ever made her skin tingle with the slightest of touches.  No, she knew exactly what she wanted, sunrises and sunsets spent in his arms.  She wanted red-headed babies with bright blue eyes.  Damn it, she thought thumping her fist on the cot, she wanted forever.

 

  But what did Ron want? That was the question.  And she would not give into his regretful looks until he proved to her that he wanted the same things. No more subtle hints and confusing clues. She would wait and watch, biding her time until Ron did or said something that would forever prove to her that he understood her thoughts and feelings. He needed to show that he cared about the things that she cared about.  When that moment came, Hermione would give herself completely to him, no more holding back.  Until then… she thought, studying the view of Ron’s arse as he bent over to pick up something that had fallen on the ground.  Until then, she would just have to be content with a very vivid fantasy life with him as the star.  She just hoped that he wouldn’t keep her waiting very long.

  


End file.
